


Burn (FebuWhump 22)

by SylvanFreckles



Series: Freckles' FebuWhump 2021 [22]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Burning, Febuwhump, Fire, Gen, Hank Swears A Lot, Hurt Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Hurt Hank Anderson, Hurt/Comfort, Protective Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Protective Hank Anderson, Suspense, android body horror, burn - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-19 04:00:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29744655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SylvanFreckles/pseuds/SylvanFreckles
Summary: A red ice raid gone wrong leaves Connor and Hank trapped in a burning building.
Relationships: Hank Anderson & Connor
Series: Freckles' FebuWhump 2021 [22]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2139234
Comments: 2
Kudos: 49
Collections: febuwhump 2021





	Burn (FebuWhump 22)

**Author's Note:**

> Last chance to turn back if Hank's potty mouth bothers you.

Smoke filled the air and heat roiled around him. Cursing through the coughs, Hank tried to roll over onto his stomach to pull himself away from the flames, but his hips stuck halfway through the twist. He collapsed back on his elbows and peered down at his legs, squinting through the smoke.

Shit. There was half-rotted beam laying across his legs, from when the upper floors had collapsed due to the fire.

He must've hit his head at some point, as the reason they were even in the building was fuzzy. He remembered getting the call about suspicious activity at this place, Connor sensing an unusual heat signature in the old house, then the stink of ash and flame as what had once been a red ice lab exploded in a cloud of oily red smoke.

The last thing he remembered was Connor pushing him down the stairs as the fire spread, then the ceiling caving in on them...shit, Connor!

“Connor!” Hank coughed and tried to tug the collar of his shirt up to cover his mouth and nose. The beam across his legs wasn't burning yet, but he could see the smoldering flames licking at one end. “Hey, Connor! Where are you?”

“I'm right here, Hank.” Connor knelt beside him and tore a long strip off of his shirt—it was marginally cleaner than Hank's, since androids didn't sweat, but still showed a few burns and stains from their current predicament. Connor neatly wrapped the almost-clean fabric around Hank's mouth and nose to block out as much of the smoke as possible, then turned to regard the beam trapping Hank's legs.

Shit. The kid was burned up on one side, his skin projection stuttering out in places to show melted and distorted exo-plating underneath. “Connor,” Hank coughed and grabbed at the android. “Get the hell out of here.”

Connor easily pried Hank's hand loose and moved closer to the beam. “I don't think that would be wise, Hank. The smoke and heat will increase to a lethal level within minutes, if we don't get you out of here now you will not survive.”

Despite the heat, and despite already knowing he was basically done for, Hank felt himself go cold at his friend's clinical words. Yeah, human life was fleeting, and there was always a chance every call he went out on would be his last, but he didn't usually have to face it so...scientifically.

“Hank!” Connor's voice snapped him back to attention. The android was crouched near his feet, one shoulder braced against the beam. “I'm going to try to lever this free, can you pull your legs out?”

The kid didn't really wait for Hank to reply. He watched in fascinated horror as Connor braced himself and pushed against the beam. The wood creaked and groaned—or was that Connor's body?

“Hank?”

Shit. Androids weren't supposed to feel pain, but that crack in the kid's voice sure _sounded_ like pain. Hank scrambled backward on his elbows, ignoring sharp stabs of pain as blood rushed to the surface of his injured legs. He threw himself to the side and tried to curl up, pulling his legs up toward his chest instead of trying to crawl further away.

The beam crashed back to the ground, the impact jarring Hank's injured legs. He wriggled around, finally getting his hands underneath him, and twisted to look at Connor.

The kid had gone down with the beam, though he didn't think Connor was trapped. It looked more like his own legs had just given out on him, and Hank could have sworn he could see sparks shooting out of Connor's half-exposed knee joint.

Or that was the flames. Shit, shit, shit...the fire was racing up the beam now, far too close to Connor's bowed head. Hank tried to shout, but the smoke and ash were too dense and he ended up coughing and hacking into the scraps of shirt that Connor had wrapped around his face.

That seemed to be enough to rouse the android. Connor stumbled up to his feet and wrenched at his jacket as flames licked up his arm. Whatever material Cyberlife used for their android uniforms obviously wasn't flame-resistant. The fabric was charring and melting, and by the time Connor finally discarded the jacket shreds of it had partially fused with his arm and back.

“Shit, kid, that looks bad,” Hank wheezed when Connor stumbled over to him. “Get...get out. I'll be right behind you.”

Connor stared at him and, despite the horror of one side of Connor's face fucking  _melted away,_ still managed to convey how little Connor thought of Hank's plan. “Don't be an idiot, Hank,” Connor leaned down and put his shoulder against Hank's chest, then with a whirring of strained servos hoisted the human onto his shoulder (the strain was definitely from his injuries, not because Hank needed to drop a few pounds...right?).

Hank wanted to protest, but could only cough feebly into Connor's back. Shit, but he stank...must be that crappy Cyberlife jacket. Ash and smoke swirled around them as Connor staggered toward the exit. He could hear the android's breath coming in short bursts—did the kid need to breath? Would smoke damage his, his lung motors, or whatever? 

Shit, why couldn't he just leave Hank behind? No use both of them dying in this godforsaken place.

Then, suddenly, there were voices around them, a burst of cool air, the tang of fire suppressant foam. Someone peeled Hank away from Connor and laid him on a gurney, cut the fabric away from his face and settled an oxygen mask in its place. He batted at the hands that tried to poke at him until he saw Frank, the android technician from the station, coaxing Connor to sit on the tailgate of his truck.

They didn't have an official android emergency vehicle yet, but Frank kept a little of everything in his truck, just in case. Hank could already see Frank rigging up a line of thirium and securing pieces of lightweight, flexible plastic over the worst of Connor's injuries, to cover his internal components until they could get him someplace safe for a full repair.

Hank settled back and let the paramedics fuss over him. He knew his legs were bleeding, and one of his knees felt too swollen to bend, but he was alive. They were both alive.

Shit, at the end of the day, that was really all that mattered.

**Author's Note:**

> Frank is from another DBH fic from the FebuWhump series called "Poisoned". He's a former Cyberlife repair tech who now works at the DPD to repair and maintain the police androids. He's slowly trying to build up a crew and a full repair lab, but having trouble getting the funding.


End file.
